Finding Heart
by Tari Tinuviel
Summary: A Captain is sought out by Jack Sparrow for the quest to find Shangri-La. While she believes that she already knows much - she finds that Jack Sparrow (who she believes to be nothing more than a drunken good-for-nothing), does indeed have a few lessons to teach her... rating for Gore/Horror elements. Post-OST, OC/OC pairing
1. Sadira

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or the characters in it, I only own my original characters which are fictional and any resemblance to real characters is purely coincidental.

Hi guys! So you all may remember me from Eleanor's Revenge or any other of the things I've written, anyways - I am now back with this story... I decided to try something new, this was a concept I came up with while writing a story for my friend and this story sort of came to be... Let me know what you think!

* * *

The sails flapped madly in the wind as the Pearl tried to maintain a steady course, the Captain stood at the helm; his compass was planted firmly in his hand as he kept his eyes trained on the horizon.

"Smells like a storm," his first mate, Joshamee Gibbs, stated.

The Captain rolled his eyes, "No," he said, "really?"

"I'm just sayin' Captain, perhaps we should weigh anchor lest we be taken to Davy Jones' Locker," he made pause, "er – that is now… William Turner's Locker."

"She can take a little more," Jack insisted.

Gibbs honestly hoped so. Jack was on the hunt for other ways to gain immortality – or long life… either one worked for the Captain, and now he was on his way to the Mediterranean Sea to meet with a captain from Beyrouth who apparently knew the secret to Shangri La. Gibbs had no idea who this captain was, he had heard many stories of a flamboyant young man who ran a Turkish Bath right in the heart of Beyrouth who was often called 'the Dragonfly of the Middle-East', or so it was said.

Gibbs was a bit perplexed, the only Pirate he knew from around that area was Armand the Corsair, not a character he would chose to interact, but who was he to argue with his captain?

"We will come in to Beyrouth within the fortnight," Jack informed him.

Gibbs could do nothing but nod and pray that the ship would hold in the face of such a wicked storm.

Many days later the city was within sights, there were many ships docked, the sun was blazing above them and the humid air smelled of tar and the tide. "Beware Pigeon's Rock," Gibbs called out to the men, "I've heard tell of many a ship damaged by that traitorous rock!"

The men ran about as Jack stool at the help, his hands were planted firmly on the wheel and he stared ahead, they saw a massive ship docked just beyond Pigeon's Rock, she was a vessel of great beauty with burgundy sails that had the remnants of what appeared to have once been an Ottoman flag. It was said that the Captain of this ship had once been a Turkish noble who had rebelled against the Sultan Abdulhamid. It was said that he had done something that the young Captain did not agree with, and as such the captain rebelled – when they tried to capture the Captain, the Captain jumped onto the nearest ship and sailed off before becoming an established Pirate with a wide network of people working with the Captain.

Beyrouth was a sunny city, much so that it reminded Gibbs of being back in Port Royal or anywhere in the Caribbean, especially with the mountains before them lush and green, and the mountains in the distance were still capped with the mid-winter snows.

"Keep a wither eye out," Jack informed his crew, "for all her beauty Beyrouth has many foul hearts."

The crew looked at him oddly before they followed their captain. They walked down cobble-stones streets past men sitting in coffee-shops smoking out of long glass bottles that has hoses attached to them, to the men they looked like men in many an Opium den though their eyes did not foretell any signs of the drug taking course. They sipped coffee, and ate Turkish Delights and watched the crew as they passed with almost suspicious eyes.

Gibbs watched as they came upon a massive bath-house, the doors were ornate and the windows were barred with wood for privacy. Jack knocked upon one of the doors and a slot opened, a woman's face appeared, "What do you want?" her voice was heavily accented.

"I am here to see your Master," Jack said.

"The Master will not see foul-smelling Englishmen," she said.

"It's a good thing I'm a foul-smelling pirate then," Jack said with a smirk, "your master is expecting me."

The woman looked annoyed, "Very well," the woman said as she opened the door to reveal a slender woman with long black hair, she wore white robes and her feet were bare. "You must dis-arm yourself and remove your shoes."

"Now, it's as if your Master does not trust me," Jack said.

"Master does not," the woman said as she eyed the crew, "not since Tripoli."

Gibbs didn't get why Jack had an excited sort of smirk, the sort he would get when thinking about some sort of conquest with a woman. Who was this Captain?

"Now, Tripoli was a –"

"You are not to speak of Tripoli," a man said as he joined them.

"Ah, Omar, always a pleasure to see you," Jack said dryly.

"The Captain awaits you, Sparrow," Omar said with a scowl.

"Ahh, still vying for the Captain's heart are we?" Jack said with a smirk.

Gibbs had no idea what to make of this, just where were they? Who was this captain? And… what was this man?

"The love of my Captain need not be romantic," Omar said rigidly, "something you would not comprehend – Sparrow…" he put his hands behind his back, "my Captain is waiting."

They walked past many doors, "My master runs the baths for everyone who wishes," the woman explained, "therefore Master separates the men and women for the sake of modesty."

"And I had hoped to see the women," Jack said, "I hear your reputation for the most beautiful women in all the lands."

She looked offended, "This place is not a spot for your whims of fancy, Jack Sparrow – do not think we do not know of the woman you have corrupted from the path of God."

He put his hands up, "To be fair, I did not know that was a convent – an honest mistake anyone could make."

"I do not believe that," Omar said as they neared two grand doors, from beyond them they could hear music – someone was playing an instrument. Omar opened the doors and the woman walked in, the room was full of books, there was a desk that was littered with paper and various trinkets, the walls were covered with fabrics and the ceilings had gas-lamps. In the center of the room there was a small pool, and beyond it sat a woman, she wore a head-scarf as well as what appeared to be a very big and elaborate turquoise kimono over a navy dress and she had scarves wrapped around her waist. They noticed – just peeking out of her Hijab was a small scar that was an inch long, it seemed to go in to her Hijab but they could not tell what it was. Her hands deftly flicked over a stringed instrument.

"A Koto?" Jack questioned, "What happened to your Qanun?"

She looked up, "Thought I would try something new," she responded, "this was a gift from Goji."

"Ah, Goji," Jack said, "reminds me of the good old days."

"You mean Tripoli?" she asked lightly.

"Aye," he said as she got to her feet, they saw she was tall though no taller than Jack, and when she smiled she displayed three gold teeth that had once been molars and a cuspid. "See," Jack said to Omar, "she did –" they all gasped as this woman's fist collided with Jack's jaw.

"We seem to remember Tripoli differently!" she yelled at him.

Jack put his hands up, "I apologized –"

"It was not enough!" she said angrily, "Cutler Beckett had found me," she snarled, "and then the Sultan had!"

"Beckett is dead," Jack said.

"I know, Barbossa told me," she said as she pushed her kimono back to reveal a jeweled sword as she turned to walk away from him, "speak, why do you come?"

"I am in search of Shangri-La," he said.

She paused her walking and turned to him with a loud laugh, "Shangri-La!" she said, "Shangri-La, fool – you look for a myth –"

"It is real," he said.

"It is not," she said as she looked at him.

Jack pulled something out from his coat, "It has to be – or else – what is this?" he asked.

It was a massive egg, Gibbs had no idea how he had gotten that past him, yet there it was. "Where did you find that?" she asked.

"How I found it is unimportant," Jack said, "the important thing is that I found it."

"Aminah," she said, "bring in the scribe…"

"What is it?" Omar asked as the woman with black hair ran off.

"Magic," she responded, "of sorts – you see – Shangri-La is a Buddhist concept – a Utopia… just as Thomas More wrote it… the Monks of the Buddhist faith have their magic… and this – is a device of their creation."

"What does it do?" Gibbs asked.

An aged man with a bald head and skin as rough as papyrus and eyes glazed over with blindness arrived with a scroll and a quill and inkwell. He sat down as she turned to Omar, "Douse the lamps," she said.

He obeyed and for a moment they were enveloped in blackness. That is until a golden glow filled the room from the pool in the center of the room, first words in Sanskrit appeared, "Scribe –"

"I have written it, my lady," he responded in his ancient voice.

Once the letters faded a map took their place, the map was obscure but the scribe scratched away nonetheless. Once the map faded and they were enveloped with darkness once more. "Omar," she said quietly.

He lit them once more and they all stood there in silence, "Shangri-La is real…" she choked out.

"Yes," Jack said, "so Sadira, what do you say?" he asked.

She stared at Jack, "Why do you need me?" she asked.

"You have good ties with the far east," Jack said, "Was it not true that Sao Feng was considering you his successor."

She said nothing, "I may have good ties in the deep east – but it does not mean –"

"You and I both know it does mean everything," he stated simply.

She let out a long sigh, "Very much," she said.

"Good – good…" he said.

"But Sao Feng is dead," Sadira said, "and the Pirate _King_ is somewhere long gone…"

"It would seem you are not overly fond of our King?" Jack questioned.

Sadira huffed, "What Pirate is made King and vanishes?" she questioned, "I doubt the men of Sao Feng will take kindly to me… not after I deserted them when there was war."

"Mistress Ching?" he questioned, "She always took kindly to your unconventional ways..."

She snorted and then frowned deeply, "… It may be worth a try."

"It's Shangri-La," Jack said, "it'll be worth every try."

Sadira supposed that Jack had a point; she was wary of seeing Mistress Ching simply because of the way she conducted her business, it was not respectable at all for a woman of her status and religion to be interacting with Mistress Ching.

"But I cannot leave my businesses," she said.

"You mean to say, you're afraid to leave your bath houses? The Sadira I knew was ready to grab the world by the –"

"-Alright," she said, "I will make the proper preparations for departure," she looked to Omar, "prepare the crew and the ship…" He nodded and turned on his heel to leave, "Aminah, prepare my things…"

Aminah nodded and then she left, the scribe rose to his feet and handed Sadira the parchment before he too left, Jack stared after the ancient blind man, "Uh…"

"Flavius is the last scribe of Alexandria," Sadira said.

"… the Library of Alexandria?" Gibbs choked out.

"What's wrong with that?" Sadira questioned.

"He was in the library of Alexandria?" he questioned.

"I don't know if you noticed… he's very old…" Sadira said simply, the crew stared after Flavius with awe. Sadira then turned to the crew, "my table is always open to guests," she said as she picked up her skirts to reveal two rather large feet, most of the crew were used to small dainty feet but then the Captain was not exactly a dainty woman, she was strong-structured – not too thin and not too thick though they could not tell beneath all the layers she wore. They saw that around both her ankles were gold bangles, and on her skin there was red henna.

"Sadira has the finest food in all the Levant," Jack told his crew as they followed her out the doors, past corridors, and into a courtyard. The courtyard was built in the fashion of the old Arabic takes of Jerusalem with a bubbling fountain in the center that was shaped into an eight-point star, a most revered figure in Islamic art. Beneath the shade of a row of trees there was a long table set low for guests to sit upon the ground as the Japanese did, and upon the linen cloths was the most impressive array of food. There were meats, fruits, vegetables, and various other things that made their mouth water at the mere sight of it.

"Living just like the daughter of a nobleman," Jack said with a smirk.

"Do not make me want to turn you away, Jack," she said simply.

"Apologies," Jack said.

She seemed to not believe him but she allowed him to sit anyways, she moved to sit at the head of the table and Jack sat to her left while the crew sat respectfully about the table as they studied the variety of food set out before them, she lifted a goblet and gestured for them to eat. Within moments the crew was ravenously putting food onto their plates, whatever they could reach they tasted.

Sadira turned to Jack as he displayed some sort of decorum, "Tell me," she said, "while I have been hiding away in by bath-waters, what new is of the world?"

He looked up at her, "Blackbeard is gone," he said.

"Gone? Was he not already dead?" she questioned.

"Somehow he survived having his own head torn off," Jack responded, "we found the fountain of youth and Barbossa killed him, now he sails the Queen Anne's Revenge."

"You found the fountain of youth?" she said, "why do you look for Shangri-la?"

He shrugged, "The Spaniards demolished it…"

She rolled her eyes, "I hate the Spaniards," she said, "Them and their ways – they take the word of God and twist it in hideous ways…"

"As has your Sultan as of late…" he said.

"To be religious now-a-days is to bear another sort of sin," she said, "especially when one does not know _why_ they are religious…"

"And you are not religious?" Jack questioned.

"I believe in the words and laws of God, if that makes me religious then so be it," she said with a shrug.

Jack chuckled, "We both know how devout you really are, this – is all a façade…" She was silent, "and what about Omar, it is obvious he it still trying to vie for your attention…" he smirked.

"I do not understand what you mean," she said simply, "Omar is my First Mate and my most trustworthy companion."

Jack smirked again, "Is he now?"

She snorted, "Do not mock me…" she said.

"Apologies," he said.

"You use that word so many times I do not think you actually know what it means," she retorted lightly.

"Your wit remains as sharp as ever," he said.

She rose to her feet and the men clumsily followed, she held up her hands, "I retired, please enjoy my house for it is open to you – stay away from the women pavilions, those who do not adhere suffer a nasty fate…"

Jack made snipping motions with his hands and all the mens' eyes widened with terror as Sadira walked away, "Will she really?" Gibbs questioned.

"She has done it before," Jack said and an audible gulp was heard from every crew-member present.

Sadira walked to her chambers, she stepped through the doors and then she shut them firmly behind her, Aminah looked up from the trunk she was packing, "What is it?"

"Every time that man is around I feel as if my brain has become a paperweight," she said as she rubbed at her temples.

"I detest him," Aminah said.

Sadira chuckled, "I find him amusing, though often I want to throttle him…"

"He is smelly," Aminah said.

"I do not disagree," Sadira smiled tiredly, "but keeping up with him is like running for miles…"

"Your wit is unmatched," was the amused answer.

"My wit is nothing compared to his drunken ramblings," Sadira said with a sigh as she removed her head covering and she let long dark hair fall to her shoulders, a little silver charm glinted amongst her forest of unruly locks.

"Shall I draw you a bath?" Aminah asked.

"No, I will draw it myself, continue packing for me please," she said as she removed layer upon layer of her clothing until she was in her under-dress, Aminah could see burn-scars on the pale shoulders of her mistress as she walked into the bathroom to prepare her own bath.

"When do you leave?" Aminah asked loudly.

"After the Fajr call," Sadira called back.

"So soon," Aminah said as she stepped into the bathroom to see Sadira lower herself into the tub.

"I am well aware," Sadira said with a wince.

Aminah frowned, "Is it your shoulder?" she asked.

"No," Sadira said, "the water is hot…"

Aminah sat on a wicker stool beside the porcelain tub, "Will you be well enough to travel?" she questioned, "you have not been the same since –"

"I am well aware, Aminah," Sadira said, "perhaps Shangri-La can help…"

"But it is mere stories!" Aminah insisted.

"The Magic is real," Sadira said as her hand went to a particularly nasty scar on her shoulder, "perhaps – the place is as well…"

Aminah sighed and studied Sadira, when Beckett had found her – and the Ottoman Empire had gotten their hands on her, she had been tortured… They had called her a filthy infidel for leaving home. They had tried to coerce her to get back home…

Sadira had never told Jack about the details of Tripoli, she knew that despite how much of a cad he was he would feel an immense amount of guilt. She didn't need the pity, she didn't need him to treat her like she was fragile as Omar and Aminah often did.

She saw Aminah's expression, "Would you stop looking at me like that?" Sadira said, "I'm not a cripple."

"I'm not –"

"I know the look, it is a look you and Omar both give me," she said a bit coldly.

"It is not a look," Aminah said.

"It is a look," Sadira said quietly as she looked away, "you pity me – and how I cannot pick up a sword anymore…"

Aminah said nothing before she got up and she went to grab a towel and robe for Sadira, she placed them on the stool where she had been sitting and then she left to continue packing.

Sadira did not understand that Aminah and Omar worried for her, and Aminah was perplexed that Aminah would chose to leave the Baths and Beyrouth for a fool's errand. It worried her that her mistress couldn't pick up a sword because of Tripoli and the fight she had lost. It worried her that it had been years since Sadira had sailed.

She shut the trunk and she left the room finding that she could not cope with Sadira's petulance at the moment. She would see her when it was time to leave.

In the bath Sadira could hear Aminah leave, she let herself sink further into the water. She hated pity, she hated how she couldn't pick up a sword, she hated how she was nervous about journeying – and she absolutely hated that she knew if something were to happen Omar would probably step in to save the day.

'I'm a cripple,' she thought moodily before she completely sank beneath the water's surface with her eyes tightly screwed shut.

She could hear the world around her muffled by the water in her ears, she could hear her body lightly touching the tub floor, she could hear her heart and the blood rushing through her veins – they resonated like drums in this silent pocket that felt like a world. She could remember when her heart used to sound like a drum of war before fear, and pain, and heartache. She could remember how her heart would race at the thought of an adventure, at the thought of a new plunder.

'Have I lost myself?' she thought, 'have I let fear and pain change me?' Her lungs began to beg for air and she did not feel the need to resurface, 'What have I done to myself?' her lungs protested. 'A little bit longer,' she thought as she could feel her lungs constricting with lack of air, she suddenly bolted out of the water with a big gasp and a splutter as she clutched the side of the tub, she coughed and crossed her arms before she put her head on them. She heard knocking on her doors so she forced herself out of the tub and she wrapped herself in a robe before she wrapped the towel around her hair, she opened the door slightly and she could hear Omar's voice.

"We're ready to leave when you wish," he said.

She grabbed the robe at her neck as she stood hidden behind the door, "I wish to leave after Fajr sounds," she said in response.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke up again, "Are you hurt?" he asked.

She stared down at her toes, a puddle of water was forming around her feet on the marble, "I'm fine," she said.

He was silent for a moment and then she heard him walk away, she shut the door and then she walked to her bed, she slid under the covers and before long sleep had consumed her.


	2. Cast Off

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or the characters in it, I only own my original characters which are fictional and any resemblance to real characters is purely coincidental.

* * *

The sun had yet to peek up above the horizon, Sadira watched as they carried her things into her cabin; Omar was standing at the head of the gang-plank as she made her way on it. He tucked his hands behind his back as she stepped onto the deck, she looked about her with a small nostalgic sigh, the burgundy sails were being untied by the crew in preparation to cast off.

She could see the Black Pear was also full of flurried movement, "Orders, Captain?" Omar asked.

"Weigh anchor," she said and he barked out the command as she stared at Pigeon's Rock. Jack was standing Portside of the Pearl so he could see her, she saw him wave and then be turned to his crew, she stepped away to go to the helm. It had been a long time since she had set sail, "set course to China!" Sadira called out.

"SET COURSE!" her first mate echoed her as she placed her hands on the mahogany wheel, she grabbed the spoke and then gave it a quick turn to safely pull out of the docks and to keep a safe distance from the Rock.

She stared out to the horizon and for the first time since longer than she could recount she felt anticipation, she would try to not let her handicap get in the way, after all – if Shangri-La was real, they would heal her better than the finest healers in Damascus.

She could see her crew running about as her firstmate barked out orders to then, she knew that she didn't have it in her to yell, she had been subdued since Tripoli and she knew it would be a while before she would be able to bark out orders like she used to.

China was a long distance off, the voyage would take them past the Gibraltar Strait and then they would have to circle around Africa, they would have to stop at the Cape of Good Hope to barter more cargo, once they were done with the Cape of Good hope they would continue sailing until they made brief dock in India, and after that they would continue on their path to China; Sadira was used to this route, many years back it was a route she always took.

Her firstmate joined her, "Cape of Good Hope?" he questioned.

She nodded, "Aye," she said.

"What of the Adamastor?" he asked cautiously.

She snorted, "I have treated with that beast before," she responded, "I will get us safely past the Cape –"

"But if he –"

"Do not argue," she said, "the last time someone argued he ate the Bo'sun." her tone did not betray that she was joking nor did she look like she was.

"When was this?" he questioned.

"Before you joined this crew," she said, "before I was master of this ship…"

He looked at her, "Who was Captain before?" he asked.

"… my Grandfather," she said, "he too had run from the life – and when I left Istanbul… I sought him out – when he died I was young but old enough to Captain – or so he thought…"

"None of the crew –" he began.

"They left," she said, "few men remained, those that did died in Tripoli…"

"I am sorry," he said.

She grinned, "I loved them, and they accepted me when I was on the run, but I also love the crew I have and I would never replace them…"

Omar studied her for a long moment; his captain was a part of a rare breed – the pirates that still pirated for love of the sea and open waters. He had to admit his worry for his captain, she was not able to pick up a sword due to an injury sustained in Tripoli, he was afraid she would be vulnerable in case of an attack and he knew should he voice his worries his captain would Keel Haul him, he had seen her do it before.

On the Black Pearl Jack looked over to the Kızböceği, Sadira's ship, where he saw the captain on the helm, beside her was her handsome first-mate.

"I have to admit, captain, Miss Sadira is not what I expected," Gibbs said.

"Aye, you should have seen her Grandfather…" Jack said, "he and I go way back…"

Gibbs looked at him, "Her grandfather?"

"Aye Captain Mehmet Yilmas, a fierce pirate, former noble… his son has tried to 'disown' his own father…" Jack shrugged, "If Sadira's touched in the head, you should meet her father Demir."

Gibbs let out a chuckle, "That bad?"

Jack nodded, "Oh yeah," he said, "but that also explains why the lovely captain has such rich taste… her handmaid – Aminah? Freed Persian slave," he explained.

"What?" Jack questioned.

"A lot of her people are freed slaves…" Jack said, "she just can't help herself."

"A good quality," Gibbs said.

"Aye, admirable," Jack agreed.

"Why is she reluctant to sail?" Gibbs said.

"Reluctant?" Jack questioned.

Often Jack acted like he did not notice – or he did not care to notice and it baffled his first-mate, "You didn't notice her reluctance?"

"I admit, I thought I did – but she was always a bit reluctant with me, always figured she's afraid to fall into temptation," Jack said.

Gibbs masked a snort with a cough, "Aye, that has to be it, sir."

Jack hesitated a bit, "Although – I admit, I am a bit curious as to what really happened in Tripoli – something about her… she's not the Sadira I knew," he admitted.

"How's that, sir?" Gibbs implored.

"She seems, to me, to be subdued… I have known her to be ruthless on occasion in the past…" Jack explained.

"How ruthless?" Gibbs questioned.

Jack flinched a bit, "Once – I saw her keelhaul a man," he said.

"People still do that?" Gibbs all but squawked as he asked this.

"… Sadira does," the Captain said a bit gravely.

Gibbs couldn't help the gulp he let out, "Again, I don't know what to think about her…"

"You shouldn't think about her at all – get to work!" Jack suddenly barked and the older more portly gentleman suddenly jumped before he ran off to go help someone on deck.

Jack once more glanced over to the Kızböceği as she gained speed on them and soon they were looking upon the aft of the ship.

Jack had a feeling that the woman he knew from a child was keeping a secret from him, something about her movement didn't seem right... he noticed she never moved her arm too much – something he had noticed back in Beyrouth, she seemed to wince when she punched him – the Sadira he knew would have knocked out a tooth or two – having lost a couple of her own in brawls at taverns all over the world.

Suddenly he saw one of Sadira's man signal them so that they could make port in Cyprus, though what she needed from Cyprus was beyond him.

That evening they made dock in Larnca, when they made dock Sadira and Jack met upon the dock and she hesitated, "I need to talk to you," she said.

"You made us make dock – so we can talk?" Jack scoffed, "Woman – honestly –" she shut him up with a slap that made his head swing around.

He rubbed at his jaw and apologized, "I have taken the Larnca Castle as my own," she said.

"You can't just take castles, love," he said.

"No one was living in it," she said, "I have men surrounding it to keep people from entering..." she gestured to Omar to tell the men she and Jack were leaving.

Together both captains and their first mates walked down cobbled streets, "Why Cyprus?" Jack said.

"My great-grandfather loved Cyprus," she said and Jack knew she was not talking about her Paternal great-grandfather, "I love Cyprus, this town is secret, not many people live here... I have taken up the Castle and I keep my presence a secret by funding the city..." she explained as they arrived to a half-ruined castle, men stood outside and bowed to her as they walked in.

Torchlight filled the halls with a golden light as they walked in, Sadira called out for a 'Sumayah' Sumayah turned out to be an aged Moorish woman who wore fine clothes and her gray hair was pulled into a tight severe bun.

"My Lady!" Sumayah cried out happily as she pulled Sadira in for a tight hug, showering her cheeks with wet kisses that made the men cringe ever so slightly.

Sadira chuckled, "I have missed you," she said.

"And you brought home some young fine lads," Sumayah said.

"This is Omar, my first mate," Sadira said as she gestured to Omar.

Sumayah sniffled, "So young – and already with her own first mate, if only you were so adamant about finding a husband!"

Sadira scoffed, "Right, because that is all that matters," she said.

"It wouldn't harm you to settle down," Sumayah insisted, "don't you agree, Omar?"

The first-mate's back stiffened, "The Captain do as she pleases," he said.

Sumayah laughed and patted Sadira's cheek, "That one is a keeper, if he's willing to let you do whatever it is you will!"

Sadira grumbled before she turned to Jack, "Perhaps you remember Jack Sparrow?"

It seemed like Jack Sparrow had an effect on the women of Sadira's household because Sumayah sent him a swift punch across the jaw that was surprising for someone her age.

Gibbs coughed awkwardly before Sadira told them to follow her through a pair of doors into a study, "Why would you bring us here?"

"I would prefer we convene on land," she said.

"That is short for... you don't trust me to be on your ship," Jack said cheekily.

"... in short – yes," Sadira said as they sat around a round table, "Jack, the only reason I have brought you here is to tell you about the horrors on our way..."

"I know about the –" Jack began.

"The Adamastor," she said, "has been active as of late..."

Jack frowned, "Adamastor?"

She nodded, "Aye, the Adamastor," she said as Sumayah walked in with a tray that held little cups and a silver pitcher. Jack seemed to hope that it was some sort of alcohol. Instead he saw black coffee pouring into the cups and his smile fell a bit, Sumayah gave Sadira the first cup and then she moved to Omar, Jack, and Gibbs.

Jack scoffed, "He can't be real..."

"Davy Jones was real... Calypso is real and creating havoc in Bermuda... Three good ships have been lost in her triangle this past year... and we're on a quest for Shangri-La, you still don't believe in Adamastor?" she said.

Jack snorted and then he crossed his arms and sat back, "Alright, what do you have to say about Adamastor?"

"Basically, let me do the talking," she said simply.

"That's it?" Jack said.

"Aye," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded, "We will cast off once more in the morning," she said as she dismissed Jack and Gibbs. Soon all that remained in the room were Omar and Sadira.

"You aren't going to tell him?" he asked.

"He doesn't need to enough, the pity I receive from you, Aminah, and the crew is pity enough," she said as she rose to her feet.

"It isn't pity," he said suddenly as he sprang to his own feet.

"... No, not pity at all," she said sardonically as she looked over to him, "you don't see it – but I do," she frowned, "I dislike your pity –"

"Is it so bad that I care?" he demanded.

She looked at him, "I have said it over and over again, I do not need your care or worry... I have no need for them..."

"Everyone needs to be cared for," he said.

"So you say," she said, "rest well, I need you in ship-shape by the time we cast off tomorrow –"

"What were you to do if I were to leave?" he asked.

"I would look for another first-mate," she said simply before she swiftly walked out of the room leaving him to stare at the place she had just been standing in.

His captain was frustrating, she was often cold – and she did not have much regard to basic human relationships, he had heard tell that she hadn't always been that way. But the more she spoke the more he doubted it. He supposed it was his fault to invest any sort of affection in her, he only stayed because he knew eventually she would realize that she did, indeed, need to have a friend she could count on.

Sadira was not a fool, she knew that Omar's intentions were pure, but she also knew that his affections for her went deeper than simply those of friendship.

She did not have time for such foolish things, she didn't have the energy to keep up with them, and she honestly did not care for them... She didn't need them, she didn't want them – and that was final.

The Castle was an old building, she had left it decrepit so that none would dare intrude, she knew that once people saw the poor state of it they would leave her be.

She walked into her chambers where Sumayah was waiting for her, Sadira removed her head-scarf and Sumayah seized her chin as she beheld the scar that was otherwise mostly concealed by her scarf, a 'P' was branded onto the side of her face, "It has healed nicely," she said.

"It is hideous," Sadira said.

"It is a part of you," Sumayah said, "I wish you had lingered here a bit more since Tripoli, you went back to Beyrouth broken..."

"I'm still broken," Sadira admitted, "I can't pick up my own sword..."

Sumayah was the closest thing Sadira had to a mother, the only person she could handle to get a pitying stare from – but she seldom received it.

"Why did you bring that monster into my home?" Sumayah said.

"Jack is hardly a monster," Sadira chuckled as she began to disrobe herself.

"If it had not been for him you would be happy and willing to love!" she all but squawked.

Sadira chuckled and shook her head, "No," she said, "that is a choice I have made a long time ago," she winced as she removed her sword from around her waist, the weight of it hurt her shoulder.

"And you could pick up your sword!" Sumayah yelled at her, "Imagine, a pirate captain that can't pick up her own sword!"

Sadira winced again, "That was harsh," she said with a smile.

Sumayah smacked her upside the head, "Harsh is when the Adamastor gobbles you up! You do realize he will test you?"

"I know," Sadira said, rubbing her head, "I don't have anything anymore to be tested – not since Dede died," she kicked her boots off and wrapped herself in the blankets.

"Not even that first mate of yours?" Sumayah asked.

Sadira scoffed, "Omar? Hardly..."

"Child, do not be so blind to the eyes of live when they look upon you," she said, "for one day they will no longer be turned to you."

Sadira grumbled,"I don't need love!"

"So you say," Sumayah said, "someday you will find that you need it just as much as any woman does, just pray on that day that young man hasn't decided you are a lost cause..."

Sadira shrugged and said nothing as Sumayah turned down the lamps before she left the room. Sadira huffed before she properly got into bed and then she closed her eyes, she would need to sleep to be able to rise with the sun.

The following morning they were all up with the sun, Sadira met with Jack, Gibbs, and Omar in the dining hall where breakfast was laid out, she nodded to them before she sat down and strong Turkish coffee was poured in a porcelain cup that rested by her elbow. She took a sip and cringed, "A nasty flavor so early in the morning," she commented.

"I would prefer rum," Jack stated.

Sadira scowled but said nothing otherwise, she noticed Omar looked – if anything – angry. "I ask for your forgiveness, First Mate, have I angered you?" she asked, she could see Sumayah angrily glaring at her from across the hall, "I did not hire a First Mate that would be cross with his captain."

"No ma'am," Omar said rigidly, "I did not know how to sleep in these ancient halls," he got up, "I will go check to see if the others are prepared to cast off."

"Yes, do that," she said as she waved him off.

He marched out of the dining hall with his shoulders squared and his hands balled into fists.

"I commend you on your shard of ice for a heart," Jack told her.

"I did not ask you for your commentary, Captain Sparrow," she said icily as she downed her coffee before she got up and she exited the hall herself. She returned to her quarters so that she could don her gear before she headed out, she knew that Jack and Gibbs would soon follow, she was unconcerned with what it is they wanted, she just wanted to set out – and if she had to leave without them then by God she would leave without them.

She marched right to the docks where she found Omar barking out orders, he was obviously taking his frustrations out on the men, Sadira realized a better woman would have felt guilt. She was not a better woman, she was a woman who had her journey on her mind and she did not give a fig about what men thought about her... she was particularly unconcerned with the affections of Omar towards her.

She realized it made her seem like a horrible person, but she was a pirate – despite what pretty little English girls liked to imagine, being a pirate was not a pretty business. It was not romantic, it was not poetic – it was the pirate against every single force on earth... Natural and Supernatural.

She feared even men forgot that, Omar looked at her, his usually warm eyes were hard. "Captain," he said.

"Good man," she said as she walked ahead of him onto the gangplank, once she was aboard the ship she put a hand on her belt, "PREPARE TO CAST OFF," she barked.

"AYE CAPTAIN!" several yells were heard.

Similar commands were being carried out upon the Pearl. Sadira went to the wheel and her hand gripped the cool wood tightly, the sun had yet to rise and it had begun to peak in the East just behind them.

"Orders Captain," Omar said as he approached her.

"Drop canvas," she said, "the breeze shall carry us out of Port."

He yelled out to the crew to drop canvas as she stared ahead, with the sun to their backs she had someone from her crew signal to Jack they she was about to set out. With a generous turn the ship slowly but surely made it's way out of port and they were off, both ships headed to Shangri-La, Sadira knew the perils ahead of them were not few, once they were out of the Mediterranean that is when the true adventure would begin.

She looked over at her cross Firstmate and she knew that eventually he would no longer be cross with her, he had nothing to be cross about – so she thought. This journey was bigger than all of them and she knew that eventually he too would see that.


End file.
